Let The Rain Fall
by Linndechir
Summary: It doesn’t rain often on Coruscant. Obi-Wan and Mace, grieving for a lost friend and lover, think it should.


Disclaimer: Neither the characters nor the places in this story are mine; and I don't make any money with this.

Author's note: Written for the Party like it's 1999 ficathon on livejournal, I.e. written in a hurry and not very much revised. Can be vaguely described as pre-slashy hurt/comfort. Thanks to wild_huntress for the beta job, and to Nariel for the title and other suggestions. As teary and angsty as it would have been had I written it right after seeing TPM for the first time.

* * *

**Let The Rain Fall**

Obi-Wan knelt on the meditation mat next to the window, his eyes closed in what looked like a peaceful expression. In truth, he simply couldn't bear to look up. He had been almost glad when he had been asked to leave his old room in the Master's quarters that were hardly befitting a young knight. It had been too painful to be in a place that still oozed with Qui-Gon's presence.

The new room was hardly better, though. It felt cold and empty compared to the warmth and cosiness of every place Qui-Gon spent even a few days in. Obi-Wan's half-hearted attempts to make himself at home - a picture here, a souvenir there - had made him feel even more lonely. Especially since all of his personal items carried some memory of his master.

A sigh escaped his lips when the beep on the door announced another visitor and broke his meditation. His friends, the healers, Master Yoda … He knew they meant well, and yet he wished they would stop bothering him. Their attempts to offer comfort, to cheer him up, to tell him to move on only made Obi-Wan seethe with a helpless anger that was hardly appropriate for a Jedi. He didn't need to hear that Qui-Gon's death had been the will of the Force, that he was at peace now, that a Jedi couldn't afford to lose himself in grief. He knew all that. It was only a small consolation to a young man who had been robbed of the love of his life.

Pulling himself together he got up and answered the door. His carefully composed expression turned into one of surprise when the door slid open and revealed Mace Windu.

Obi-Wan bowed deeply and stepped aside to let him in, too taken aback to say anything. Like most young Jedi Obi-Wan regarded Master Windu as a living legend, a Councillor he only saw in mission briefings or occasionally in the training hall, sparring against the Temple's best warriors and usually winning. It was not someone he expected at his doorstep for a social call.

The Jedi Master nodded at him, glanced around the room, his eyes briefly pausing on a holopicture of Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, smiling at each other in a little café on Coruscant, before he sat down on the couch. Obi-Wan joined him. Among themselves Jedi rarely bothered with formalities.

"I understand that young Skywalker is staying with Master Yoda for the moment?" Windu started abruptly after scrutinising Obi-Wan for a few seconds.

"Yes, Master Yoda wanted to give me some time alone before I take Anakin in," Obi-Wan replied. He stared at his hands, trying not to fidget. He had always found it quite difficult to look into Master Windu's dark eyes - he felt unnerved by a man who seemed to see right through him, not in that gentle way of Master Yoda's, but as if he was looking for his deepest fears and flaws. "I am still not convinced that I am the best choice to train him, but it was … my master's last wish."

Despite all his self-control and meditation of the past few days his voice faltered. In his mind that terrible scene started to replay again - his master's broken voice, the trembling request that Obi-Wan train Anakin, the love in his eyes, mingled with pained regret when his strength left him before he could say the words that truly mattered.

"I miss him, too."

The words yanked Obi-Wan back to reality, and once again he gave his guest a surprised look. Master Windu's deep voice sounded less distant than usual, softer, warmer. Obi-Wan realised that the words were heartfelt - neither the quiet sadness of Master Yoda, who had already seen too many of his padawans and friends die over the centuries, nor the impersonal regret of those who had hardly known Qui-Gon and only grieved for a fellow Jedi, not for a man. Mace Windu sounded like someone who had lost a dear friend.

The wrinkles around his eyes deepened a bit, the closest thing to a smile one could usually observe on the Councillor's face.

"You're surprised," he stated rather than asked. "I know that Qui-Gon and I hardly seemed to be friends in the last years. We used to be, before we started to argue as soon as we were in the same room … before I was made Councillor. We have become … estranged since then, but we never stopped being friends, deep down."

"I did not know that," Obi-Wan said quietly. The few times he had heard Qui-Gon talk about Windu his master had usually complained about him being a narrow-minded rule-stickler, but for some reason, now that he saw genuine sadness in those dark eyes, he had no trouble imagining him and Qui-Gon as friends. He knew that Master Windu wasn't exactly the most talkative person, and he wasn't sure if he should feel honoured or worried by this unexpected confidence.

"I always thought that, some day, we would be able to talk normally again, like we used to." Windu took a deep breath, his eyes for the first time leaving Obi-Wan's face and returning to the holopicture of Qui-Gon. "Somehow I never imagined that he would be gone before we got the chance to put all those arguments behind us. I know how you must feel."

Obi-Wan lowered his gaze again to his hands, strangely moved by Master Windu's words, and maybe that made him be more honest than he had been even to Master Yoda and his closest friends.

"With all due respect, I doubt that."

Windu only raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Qui-Gon and I," Obi-Wan started, trying to sound calm despite the distinctive tremor in his voice, "we were not just master and padawan. We were lovers."

It had been their well-kept secret - not because it was forbidden, but because it always raised suspicion, and Qui-Gon had already had enough trouble with the Council without them questioning his relationship with his padawan. But now … How was anyone supposed to understand his pain if they didn't know how close he and his master had been?

Obi-Wan was so anxious about the response that he missed the lack of surprise on Master Windu's face, as if the Councillor had, if not known, then at least suspected this.

"So were we once, many years ago," Windu replied finally, trading honesty for honesty, pain for pain. "Part of me never forgot that. Being loved by Qui-Gon is not something you ever fully get over."

The unexpected revelation went almost unnoticed as that last sentence tore through Obi-Wan's frail composure. He hadn't cried again since Qui-Gon had passed away in his arms, but bottled up his feelings, meditated, focused, being the serene Jedi everyone expected him to be. Windu's words, the regret and grief in his voice that echoed what Obi-Wan felt inside brought him crushing down.

Sobs suddenly wrecked his body, tears he hadn't even allowed himself in his solitary moments quelled from his eyes. Words he had held back because they were inappropriate for a Jedi poured from his lips in a stream of chopped-off stammers.

"I need him … I'm not ready to be left alone, with a padawan I never wanted … I love him so much, I can't be without him … I can't do this without him …"

He had no idea what he was saying, he wasn't even aware anymore that somebody was listening until he felt the couch give in a little next to him. Strong arms were wrapped around his shaking body and he was pulled against a broad chest. Instinctively, like a hurt and frightened child, he moved into the protective embrace and buried his face into a scratchy tunic that was soon soaked with tears.

The warmth of the body holding him and the big hands that rubbed his back felt a bit like Qui-Gon's, and at the same time the deep voice whispering calming words, the too-smooth chin against his forehead reminded him all too cruelly that it was not his Qui-Gon holding him, that his Qui-Gon would never hold him again.

After the violence of his breakdown ebbed away he realised dimly that there were tears on his brow. He looked up, still shaking and sobbing uncontrollably, to see a wet shimmer in Windu's eyes and on his cheeks. It was only now that his sorrow-clouded brain realised that the Jedi Master was probably the only one who fully shared his pain. Hoping that he might be able to return some of the comfort that was given, Obi-Wan nuzzled against him, gradually calming down.

"Qui-Gon loved rain," he whispered suddenly when he trusted his voice again after long minutes of silence, not quite sure where that thought had come from. "He'd go out and stand in the rain until his hair and clothes were soaked, and he'd smile as if he had been relieved of all his burdens. I don't think there's rain when you become one with the Force …"

"The first time I saw him it was raining," Windu replied quietly. "He was standing on one leg in the Temple gardens, pulling off his boots and laughing like a child. I couldn't believe that he was supposed to be the great Master Jinn. I was still a padawan back then … arrogant and too serious, until he taught me that cherishing the joy the Force grants us makes us if anything better Jedi, not worse."

Obi-Wan sobbed and smiled at the same time. He remembered too well the overwhelming lust for life Qui-Gon had kept behind the serene Jedi façade of his missions, and he could easily imagine a younger Qui-Gon taking a grave padawan under his wing, teaching him the small pleasures of life, like he had taught Obi-Wan many years later. That brought back the memory of Qui-Gon kissing him, of his big hands gliding over naked skin, always more concerned with his lover's pleasure than with his own. Obi-Wan didn't feel jealous that those hands had once caressed the man who was holding him now; somehow it even felt right that the two of them, who owed so much to Qui-Gon, were together when he was gone.

"He made love to me in the rain once, on a mission …" Obi-Wan whispered. "We were cut off by a storm and stuck in rainy grasslands for days until a ship picked us up, just him and me and the rain … He promised me he'd take me back to that planet one day, after my knighting. We wanted to stay together, you know?"

He was rambling now, he wanted to get it all out, everything he had wanted to yell into those polite faces of people who had only cared about Master Jinn, not about Qui-Gon, people whose empty condolences were like a slap in the face, who thought that a few nice words were enough to make him get over his master.

Windu just listened, gently stroking the young man's shaking shoulders and back, listened to a seemingly endless stream of memories, sobs, half-helpless, half-angry musings on why the Force had torn the most precious person out of his life when he needed him most. Obi-Wan poured out his heart without thinking, curled up in the arms of the first man who actually listened to him since Qui-Gon's death.

Finally he fell silent, as if a sudden calm had overcome him. His voice was hoarse from too much crying and talking when he spoke again.

"I always loved him. I can't remember falling in love with him, it simply happened. And of course I wanted him, I was sixteen, with more hormones than brains, but, Force, how I loved him. When he dropped that serene master act and just kissed me back, I felt suddenly complete ... and it wasn't about lust anymore. I wanted to be with him forever. I never imagined there could be a life without him. And now he's gone, and everyone expects me to go on as if -"

His voice broke again and he just pressed his face against Windu's neck, grateful for the warmth, the contact, for the soothing hands on his back and hair. In Windu's touch he felt the same consideration that had always amazed him in Qui-Gon, the gentleness of tall, strong men who always seemed afraid that their strength might frighten and hurt.

Obi-Wan was crying silently now. His throat hurt, and yet it was nothing compared to the crushing pain in his chest. He felt the same strangling desperation that had gripped him after Qui-Gon's last breath, the hopeless certainty that no day was worth living without those blue eyes smiling at him in the morning.

And in this darkest moment, the deep voice that rumbled against his cheek was the only thing that kept him from drowning, from giving up, from grabbing his lightsabre and following Qui-Gon.

"He always seemed immortal to me, a bit like Master Yoda," Windu said, as if he understood that Obi-Wan needed him to say something. "No matter how dangerous the mission, he always came back. And even when we started to forget that our friendship mattered more than our disagreements, I was always sure that some day we would remember again. I pictured us as old men, retired from active duty, sitting in the gardens, in the rain, reminiscing."

Despite himself Obi-Wan smiled at the image, and his mind added himself to it, not young anymore either, but still sitting on Qui-Gon's lap and nuzzling against him. Qui-Gon's big body shielding him a bit from the water, his scent mingling with that of the summer rain …

"We never reconciled in the past years, because we had both no doubts that there would still be time for that," Windu continued when he felt that his voice soothed Obi-Wan. "I never knew any other Jedi who loved life with such ardour. He once told me that he sought to enjoy every happy moment to the fullest because we needed those happy memories to get through darker times. I never fully understood what he had meant, until now."

"Live in the moment," Obi-Wan quoted in a hoarse whisper. He looked up and smiled sadly at Windu. "Because we never know what the future will bring us." He paused and leant his head against Windu's shoulder, relaxing into the steady caresses. "I just never thought moments without him were worth living."

He half expected a lecture on the dangers of attachment, but instead the arms around him just tightened reassuringly.

"Rest," Windu breathed into his ear, and Obi-Wan felt indeed so exhausted that he didn't realise there was a bit of a mind suggestion behind the word.

"You won't leave?" he asked, afraid that the warm body that held him so protectively would disappear, just like Qui-Gon's.

"No. I won't leave."

The soft reply was the last thing that reached Obi-Wan's sleep-deprived brain, and for the first time in days he fell into a deep, restful slumber.

Mace Windu shifted a bit to make himself more comfortable, although he knew that he wouldn't find sleep any time soon. He kept caressing Obi-Wan's short hair, surprised how silky it felt when stroked in one direction and spiky in the other. A handsome young man, charming, kind, serious. There was something incredibly soft and gentle about his looks and demeanour that belied the talent and strength Mace knew lay underneath, and he could easily understand why Qui-Gon had fallen in love with Obi-Wan.

_Eight years_, the Jedi Master thought. _They were together for eight years and none of us saw it. _Eight years was a long time even for a mature man like Qui-Gon - for Obi-Wan they were the better part of his youth and adult life. Mace felt a wave of sympathy and compassion for the young Jedi whose loss was so much more grave than they had all suspected.

Eight years was also a very long time to hide a relationship from one's closest friend. It showed Mace all too plainly how estranged he and Qui-Gon had become since Mace had joined the Council. It had indeed been years since they had talked in private. Mace had never even given Qui-Gon a chance to tell him about Obi-Wan.

He regretted that he hadn't had a nice word for Qui-Gon in years, that he hadn't told him how much he respected, admired, even loved him, despite their disagreements. How much he missed the time they had spent together, talking, laughing, sparring, meditating, or just sitting together in silent companionship. They had only been lovers for a short time, but even after that Mace had always loved Qui-Gon as the best friend one could imagine, a man without whom the world at large and Mace's life in particular would be bleaker.

Still caressing Obi-Wan absent-mindedly he whispered a silent apology to his old friend, hoping that it might somehow reach Qui-Gon. He had thought that he had only come here to offer a few consoling words to a padawan who had lost his master in battle, but he realised now that he owed it to Qui-Gon to take care of his young lover. What he didn't realise yet was that he needed Obi-Wan as much as Obi-Wan needed him.

His Force senses tingled for a second, as if there was another presence in the room, but the feeling vanished as soon as he tried to grasp it. He discarded the short disturbance as one of those random signs one often picked up in a temple full of Force-sensitives.

He had no idea that somebody was watching them, a fleeting presence, a Force ghost who didn't quite manage yet to show himself. But while he hadn't figured out yet how to communicate with the living world, Qui-Gon was quite capable of seeing it.

They probably thought they were only sharing their grief for a few hours or maybe days, but Qui-Gon, with the detached wisdom of someone who saw the world from the outside, could already foresee that there was much more to it. He could see them crying together, meditating together, and in the end smiling together. He could see them kiss - a gentle, tender kiss on a rainy afternoon - and it filled him with a sense of peace he had never felt in his whole life. He knew that they would take care of each other until he was reunited with them.

At last letting go of his remaining mortal fears and worries, the Force ghost vanished, leaving his best friend and his beloved with the dream of a smiling Jedi Master in the rain, of blue eyes which promised that, in the Force, no goodbye was final.


End file.
